


holy palmers' kiss

by sunsetswerv



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Jukebox, Post-Canon, Shakespeare Quotations, i'm fine! i'm good!, julie and luke are simps for each other, julie is able to touch luke at just the right time, two starcrossed lovers acting as two other starcrossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27396997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetswerv/pseuds/sunsetswerv
Summary: 'if i profane my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this. my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.'  /  julie's learning shakespeare for her theater class.  luke wants to help.  written for day 3 of julie and the phantoms appreciation week (prompt: favorite ship).
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 25
Kudos: 230
Collections: JATP Appreciation Week





	holy palmers' kiss

**Author's Note:**

> hi, everyone! i am so excited to share this piece with you in honor of jatp appreciation week on tumblr! i'm a little behind because of a crazy past few weeks, but i'm hoping to have all 7 pieces posted before the week is over. obviously, i am neither kenny ortega nor shakespeare: the scene julie and luke read together is from act i, scene iv of romeo and juliet. i hope you enjoy!

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this…” Julie drummed her fingers against the piano bench, trying to recall the next line. “Come _on_!” she exclaimed to no one in particular, frustrated, flipping her script face-up on the piano to review the scene again.

She was preparing best she could for her Shakespeare assessment in her theater class the next day, but found herself doing less memorizing and more resenting her teacher for this particular duet assignment: an excerpt from Romeo and Juliet. A study on tragic, star crossed lovers was the last thing she was wanting to analyze, seeing as the current object of her _own_ affections was about as alive as the protagonists were at the end of their story. Julie sighed, frustrated at the blaring comparison, the noise echoing through the empty studio as she attempted to regain her focus. 

It was rare that she got the studio to herself now that it was haunted by the other members of her band. Even when she thought she was alone, the boys almost always found a way to interrupt her solitude (for a moment, she thinks back to the golden morning she first played her mom’s song, unaware that they had witnessed her journey into music again). Typically, the disturbances were welcomed - Reggie popped in to help her with homework when calculus grew unbearable, Alex somehow always knew when she had hard days, lending an ear when she needed it most, and Luke… _well_. 

Luke sometimes proved to be more of a hindrance to her productivity than a help, babbling fragments of melodies under his breath or stealing her pencil to tap out a rhythm while she’s tapping an equation into her calculator. 

Simply put, the guitarist was insufferable, a threat to any looming deadline that Julie attempted to tackle. She really should be annoyed by his antics, and sometimes she was- kicking him out of her room or pushing him off the couch in the studio when he became particularly bothersome. Most of the time, though, she found it charming: when she’d glance over and he was lost in thought, guitar pick in his mouth as he scribbled down chord symbols, or when he scrawled a smiley face on her arm with her own pen, a giggle betraying himself in the act… Julie shook herself out of her thoughts, straightening her script out with a _snap_. 

There wasn’t any time to focus on Luke right now, only _Romeo_ : if she didn’t have this scene learned for theater class tomorrow, she was going to be in trouble. Besides, she should be relishing in the academic silence that had descended upon the studio. A Luke-less, blissful, academic silence. Taking a deep breath, she directed her attention back to the scene. _What phrase had she just messed up?_ Brown eyes scan the marked-up page before arriving at the trouble spot. 

“For saints have hands… for saints have hands,” Julie mumbled, connecting the fragment to the previous line in her head. A sudden _pop_ , then a low whistle sounded from behind her, and she nearly shot off the piano bench with a fright. 

“They do, you’re right,” Luke quipped, strolling over to the piano and leaning against it, propping himself up with his elbows. “Well. Most of them, anyway. What are you up to?” 

“School.” Julie replied flatly, not even glancing up from the page. 

“Ah. Gotcha.” 

“Yeah.” she played a scale absentmindedly, reciting the line silently to make sure she’d retained it. _For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch_ … Not even a minute passes before the interruptions begin. 

“Are you… are you almost done?” 

Julie groaned inwardly as she realized that her window of opportunity to study in peace had been slammed shut by Luke’s arrival. “I’m not, actually. I have to make sure I have this memorized for school tomorrow.” 

“Ooh, is it a song? I can try to help-” 

“It’s Shakespeare.” she cut him off flatly, finally meeting his gaze. “Not really your scene, right?” 

He pauses, taken aback by the unexpected answer. “I- well- no, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try, right?” Luke bounces back almost immediately, eager to please. “It’s _performing_ , Julie. And I’m pretty good at that, don’t you think? It’ll come naturally.” he shoots her a million dollar smile as he tries to nonchalantly scoop the page up off the piano. 

She rolls her eyes at his self-indulgent question, snatching the page before he could get to it. 

“Luke, seriously, it’s _okay_ -” 

“Julie, you shouldn’t have to practice by yourself! The air makes an awful scene partner.” 

“Actually, it has been lovely to work with so far. Plus, I don’t need a partner right now, seriously!” her heart was racing, a blush coming to her cheeks as she clutched the scene to her chest. The last thing she needed was to read a love scene with Luke: he seriously needed to _back down_. 

“Come on, I’m just trying to help!” a beat. “Oh, wait, I get it. You don’t think I can do it, do you?” he asked, feigning outrage as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m not _sophisticated_ enough to read something from a _play_ with you. It’s fine. I’m only good for rocking out. Say no more,” he teased, sighing with melodramatic gusto. “I’ll just be here to tap for some amazing song idea the next time you need one, I guess.” 

“You’re being so dramatic! It’s just something for school and you shouldn’t have to worry about it. For real.” _And it’s also an actual romantic scene and I don’t know if I have the emotional capacity to do that with you of all people right now_ , she added mentally, wishing that the guitarist would just poof back to wherever he came from. 

“Listen, you’re the one being dramatic, Julie, just let me see!” 

And he’s nearly chasing her around the studio now (not unlike how she took off after him when she learned he’d rifled through her dream box), a childish game of cat and mouse until Luke cheats and phases _through_ the piano when she has to arc around it. Taken by surprise, Julie freezes, and the script is victoriously snatched out of her hand. 

“You’re the worst,” she spluttered, turning away from him and flopping down on the couch. 

“You don’t _really_ think that,” he shot back smugly before glancing over his hard-won prize. “Oh, Romeo and Juliet,” Luke drawled with a glint in his eye, and Julie wished that she could sink into the worn cushions underneath her and never be seen again. “A real classic. I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jules!” 

“I didn’t pick it, trust me,” she replied shortly, “My theater teacher assigned it. I had to analyze it in class today, and now I have to memorize it to perform for a grade tomorrow. So, if you’ll excuse me-” Julie pops up, attempting to reclaim the script, but Luke’s hand shot into the air to keep the page out of her reach. 

“Just- just come on, Julie, I can finally help you out with something! Let me try?” he asked, and with that eager smile directed straight at her, _how can she say no_? 

“Okay. Fine! Fine,” she snaps after a moment of contemplation, and Luke beamed back at her with genuine excitement. 

“Cool, cool, cool. Um. So I just read and you’ll say yours back to me, right?” 

“That’s usually how a scene works,” she quips, attempting to digest the butterflies that were forming in her stomach. “You’re Romeo. Obviously.” 

“Oh, wow, you really think so?” he bats his lashes at her. “I’m touched that you’d think that, Jules. Truly.” 

“Just- shut up and start before I change my mind,” she mumbles, a blush creeping to her cheeks as Luke held up the script and began. 

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,” he begins a bit unsteadily, familiarizing himself with lines that were the antithesis of his usual 90’s slang. “My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with…” Luke pauses, a blush creeping across his cheeks as he began to realize what he’d gotten himself into. “With a tender kiss.” He rushed the final phrase, trying to ignore Julie’s gaze as she stepped closer to him to deliver her line. 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” she begins gently, a timid attempt at some refined accent coloring her tone. She’s standing taller, nobler, Luke notices; Julie’s taking this performance as seriously as she would any show with the band. “Which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm,” she pauses as she presses her own hands together in demonstration, “is holy palmers’ kiss.” 

“Shakespeare, uh, likes to talk about kissing, apparently,” Luke mumbles under his breath before dutifully reading his next line. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” 

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” 

“Ay?” he shot back at her, a nervous chuckle bubbling past his lips. 

“Just say your lines!” she insisted, attempting a playful swat at his arm that she knew would just phase right through the boy in front of her. 

Except it doesn’t. 

“Oh.” Luke’s hazel eyes widened in surprise as he looks from the script to Julie to her hand now resting awkwardly on his arm. Of course his new tendency to fade in and out of corporeal-ness since they had played the Orpheum had decided to trigger in this very moment. 

“Oh.” she breathed, and for some reason her hand is still on his arm and he’s not backing away and quickly she realized just how _close_ they had gotten. Was it her imagination, or did the contact make him blush? 

“Should I, ah,” he cleared his throat, looking back to the script with a start. “Should I say the next line?” 

“Yeah, um, if you want to,” Julie replied shyly, beginning to pull her arm away only for Luke’s hand to catch hers, a silent plea not to let go. Confusion clouded her features as she glanced from their hands to Luke and back again, but he opted not to acknowledge the contact as he continued. 

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” he squeezed her hand as emphasis, timidly seizing the moment that Shakespeare of all people had granted him with Julie. “They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Somehow he had drawn closer to her, and they stood for a moment in the empty space, breathless. Hesitantly, he released her hand ( _was that disappointment in her eyes_?) in favor of looping his free arm around her waist. She didn’t protest, and Luke wondered if she thought this was merely part of the scene. 

Julie stood, speechless, her hand drifting up to his shoulder naturally. He looked at her, nodding slightly, an encouragement to go on with the scene. 

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her heart was pounding in her ears as she looked him straight in the eye, attempting to discern reality from fiction. From what she remembered, Luke was _not_ this good of an actor. What was happening between them? 

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.” his final line rang out into the silence of the studio, the dialogue concluded, but neither performer breaking away to take their bow. They stood quietly in their awkward embrace: Luke’s arm that wasn’t holding the script wrapped loosely around her waist, while one of her hands had found its way to his shoulder. 

“Well, you make a better Romeo than I thought you would,” Julie teased, but the joke didn’t quite land as intended; Luke’s eyes were still focused on the script, his brow furrowed in thought. 

“Hey, Julie?” his voice, capable of filling up a sold-out venue or blowing the roof off a rehearsal space, sounded so small. 

“Yeah?” 

“The, um. The scene- it’s not finished yet.” he stammered, a blush rising to his cheeks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your notes. They say, um… they say at the very end, that…” 

Realization struck her like lightning. “That Romeo and Juliet kiss?” she finished the thought for him softly, attempting to ignore how hard it was to breathe. _There was absolutely no way this was happening right now_. “We- um. We don’t have to do that part. It’s just the scene description…” Julie’s voice trailed off as Luke’s eyes finally met hers. 

“Well- would you want to, I don’t know…” 

Julie nearly laughed at his hesitation, watching the easygoing rockstar facade that Luke worked tirelessly to maintain disintegrate before her eyes. 

“Would you want to practice? Just in case your teacher… I dunno. Puts you on the spot tomorrow. Or something.” his eyes flicked to her lips for only a moment, too nervous to linger for long. 

“I think… that’s a good idea. It’s good to be, um. Prepared.” her voice was nearly a whisper as a shy smile came across her face. 

With her permission expressed, the script fell from Luke’s hand to the floor, forgotten, his other arm wrapping around her waist as they kissed. A million fireworks went off in Julie’s chest as she leaned into his embrace, a fulfillment of something she’d felt almost since Luke had appeared in the studio the night she had played her mom’s Sunset Curve CD. 

These few months of uncertainty had cultivated into more than onstage chemistry, more than fleeting attempts to touch and cryptic flirtations. Their feelings for each other were real, no longer half a melody with no resolution. 

Luke’s lips were slightly cool against her own (which she could definitely get used to), and as they pulled away from each other Julie felt like she was floating. They’re beaming, and Julie is _so incredibly thankful_ for whatever otherworldly ghost power has made this moment possible as Luke wraps her up in an embrace. 

“You’re a star, Jules,” he mumbled into her curls, and she felt like she could melt away. “You’ll blow them away tomorrow, you know it?” 

“You think?” she asked as they break apart, and Luke scoffed incredulously. 

“Well, of course! You just- you just did _that_ like it was absolutely nothing, and-” 

“I honestly feel like we should go over that last part again, though. Just to be sure?” she interjected shyly, and in that moment she swore to herself she’d never forget the look on his face. 

“Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, um, sure, that would be great,” he stammered as he connected the dots, scooping Julie’s script up off the floor as fast as he could. “That would be… really, really great, actually.” 


End file.
